Three Wishes
by lilsherlockian1975
Summary: What happens when you have a bored John and a manipulative Sherlock? Let's see, shall we. I'll toss in a 'not to be messed with' Molly Hooper just for funzies.


_Here's a bit of fun with lots of Sherlock John bromance and, of course, Sherlolly goodness! Big thanks to MizJoely for her help._

 _I own nothing. Enjoy ~Lil~_

* * *

They had been sitting in the small out building for almost two hours when John finally broke. "Fuck, I'm bored!" he said, rubbing both hands over his face.

Sherlock just continued to stare out the one and only window at the seemingly unoccupied house.

"Did you hear me, Sherlock. I said I'm bored!"

His friend sighed and glanced in his direction. "I heard you, John, as you're sitting less than three feet away from me. But your boredom is not my concern. This is why you need a mind palace. I've solved three cases whilst we've waited _and_ devised several new ways to annoy my brother."

"I don't want a bloody mind palace," John complained. "I want this stake-out to be over."

" _Stake-out_." Sherlock huffed. "This isn't an episode of Miami Vice, John."

"When was the last time you watched telly, Sherlock?"

Once again, the detective ignored his friend. Several minutes went by, then John got an idea. "Three wishes!" he blurted.

"What?"

"If you could have three things, without consequences, what would they be?" John asked.

"A quieter assistant…"

"No I'm serious."

"So am I," Sherlock replied dryly.

"I'd wish for Mary's past to stay hidden… forever and for her to never have to worry about it again."

Sherlock finally took his eyes off of the building that they were watching, though keeping it in his peripheral vision, and looked at John carefully. "I thought…"

"It's fine, Sherlock. Just play the damn game before I lose my mind."

"All right, let's see... I wish cigarettes were healthy. That they made your breath fresh and put a spring in your step."

"You're an arsehole…"

"It's your game," Sherlock said, looking at the house with a smirk on his lips. "What else do you _wish_ for, John?"

"To never worry about money again."

Once again Sherlock looked at his friend with a bit of concern on his face.

John rolled his eyes. _Of course he doesn't get it_. "I have a child now, Sherlock," he said patiently. "I worry about money and… things."

The detective nodded.

"All right, two more," John demanded.

"A neverending supply of cases. All nines."

John smirked. "What, not tens?"

"I'm not greedy, for heaven's sake." He chuckled and John joined in. "One more and we can be done with this foolishness."

John paused. "Ah… for you and my sister to be clean and sober… _completely_ clean and sober, forever."

"Way to kill the mood, John."

"I'm serious."

"Yes, I know. I thought this was supposed to be fun…"

"One more, come on," John said.

There was a long pause before Sherlock finally spoke again. He kept his eyes focused on the house and said, "I wish… that Molly Hooper was still in love with me."

"You- you what?" John stammered. "That's just… it's cruel, Sherlock. Molly's, well, she seems happy now."

"Yes, John. Once again you excel in your ability to state the obvious."

"Why would you want that?"

Sherlock then gave him _The Look_. "Work it out," he said once he'd turned back to the abandoned house.

If he were talking to any other man the answer would have been clear, but he wasn't. This was Sherlock Holmes and… _bugger_... "You have _feelings_ for her?"

His friend didn't respond. He didn't even blink.

John huffed. "You want… _something_ with Molly. What? You…"

"I played your silly game," Sherlock interrupted. "but I'm not baring my soul like some stroppy teen. Take from it what you will."

Of course he couldn't' let it go. "You don't get to do that. You don't drop a bomb like that then sit there like…"

"You said it yourself, John, she's happy. Why would I disrupt that? What good would it do now? What I _feel_ is irrelevant. I've lived without… affection...for this long and will continue just fine."

"Maybe she still loves you," John said, though he wasn't at all sure if it was the case.

Sherlock laughed bitterly. "I'm afraid I've been relegated to the… oh, what's the term, John? Surely you know it, the one where a woman you fancy doesn't fancy you and you get all..."

"You know about the friendzone?" John interrupted, astonished.

"Indeed. I placed you there the day we met," he said with the raise of an eyebrow.

"What?"

"When I explained my views on relationships. I was concerned that you were making a pass, so I made my point clear. That's not to say that you're not devilishly handsome," he said with a wink.

"All right. I get it! Stop takin' the piss," John snapped.

"Can't you see I deserve this? I dismissed her for years and now that I want more, she doesn't. It's almost poetic."

John thought for a moment before he spoke. "What if there was still a chance? She's happy right now, but what if she would be happier _with you_?"

"There's very little chance of either of those things being true, John," the detective answered dismissively, though there was a hint of something in his voice. "Look! There's Anders." And with that he was off, chasing after the accused jewel thief.

* * *

"This is lovely, John. I can't remember the last time we hung out, just the two of us," Molly said as she dug into her salad.

"I remember," John started. "I took you to dinner about eight months after… after Sherlock's jump. I thought it was a date and you _didn't_. It was the nicest rejection I've ever received." He followed up with a trademark Watson grin.

"Oh God, I'd forgotten about that. I'm… well, not sorry since we would've been a disaster, but really, I _did_ feel bad at the time."

"It's okay, Molls. I understand. And listen, I met Mary three weeks later, so everything worked out."

She smiled and took a drink of her water.

"So, I might have had an ulterior motive for asking you here today," John explained stiffly.

"I'm not interested in a three way, John," Molly said seriously, but with a teasing smile on her lips. After a beat she started laughing.

John joined in and suddenly felt much more relaxed. "Ah, Mary will be disappointed." The waitress stopped by and refilled their drinks. "Actually, I wanted to talk about Sherlock."

"What about him? I just saw him yesterday, looked fine and clean and…"

"He likes you," John blurted out.

"He what's me?" she asked with a giggle.

"Likes you. Like properly likes… well, I suspect it's much more than likes. Arggg, I'm buggering this up worse than he would."

"Why would you say something like that?" she asked, getting that _'I'm Molly Hooper and I can dissect you in a matter of minutes'_ look on her face. "Did he put you up to this?" She was pointing at him with her fork, it was a bit threatening.

"No! Course not!" he said, keeping a nervous eye on the utensil. "But he thinks you don't have feelings for him anymore and that you're happy without him, so he's decided not to do anything about it. You _have_ seemed really happy lately, Molly."

" _That idiot,_ " she mumbled.

"I know what you're thinking, Molly, but he wasn't lying or manipulating. Really, he wasn't. Trust me. He actually seemed a bit… torn up, in his own Sherlock sort of way, at the idea that you were over him and there was no chance of you two being an item."

She stood up, grabbing her cardigan and bag. "I'm gonna kill that bastard!" She started walking away, but turned back to John and said, "Thanks for lunch." before rushing out of the cafe.

* * *

Sherlock checked the clock for the tenth time in an hour. If he'd done his math correctly, and he knew that he had, Molly should be arriving…"

" **William Sherlock Scott Holmes**!" Molly bellowed from the bottom of the stairs.

 _Uh-oh,_ perhaps his plans hadn't worked out as well has he'd thought they would. _Perhaps_ , he'd miscalculated her feelings. He was only about eighty-seven percent sure. Still pretty good odds.

Her tiny feet stormed up the stairs and she threw open the door. "You… Git!"

"Good afternoon, Molly. You look lovely today," he said with a smile.

"You… you… **coward**!" she shouted.

"Well, that's not very nice, Molly…"

"You manipulated John into telling me how you feel. You used your best friend because you didn't know how to express what I've known for _weeks_ , by the way. Maybe even months!"

"Well neither of us was going to do anything about it. John's a good scapegoat, it's practically on his CV. Now it's out in the open and we can properly do something about it." He walked closer and tried to take her hand, but she batted it away.

"I'm still mad at you!"

"Really, Molly? We're finally here, after all the shit I've done and this…" he started, but was stopped when she launched herself at him, lips first.

She held him tightly by the back of his head and basically snogged him stupid. Breaking the kiss, she took a deep breath before speaking. "You owe John an apology. He was worried and… _so_ awkward." She grimaced.

"Did he finally talk to you about your half date? It's been bothering him." He took the opportunity to run his hands up and down her back. "He claims that only you and Andrea have escaped his charms since he grew chest hair. I happen to know that that is a wild exaggeration"

She was fiddling with the buttons on his shirt, as if she were trying to decide whether to undo them or not. "That's mean." She giggled. "You're mean." Looking up she asked, "Why? Why not just talk to me?"

He sighed, resting his hands low on her hips. "The idea just sort of struck me the other night during a case. John was bored and asked me what I'd wish for if I had three wishes, no consequences." Taking her hand he led her to the settee and pulled her onto his lap. "I _thought_ I had a stroke of brilliance and I told John that I wished you still loved me. I knew he wouldn't be able to keep it to himself, gossiping old hen…"

"Must you do everything the hard way?" she asked as she played with the curls at the nape of his neck, completely distracting him for a moment.

"Hmmm." He kissed her again. "You'll need to get used to my methods, Miss Hooper. Since you haven't noticed I'll inform you: I'm a bit stubborn," he said before grazing his teeth along her jaw. He was hoping that they could get back to the good stuff and off the topic of his insecurity. Because that was what had motivated him to use his best friend as a courier of his affections.

Leaning into his ministrations she asked, "Any other personality quirks I should know about?"

"Dozens." Kiss. "Hundreds." Nibble. "Too many to count." Lick. "But my dashing good looks counteract them. Also, I'm well connected and gainfully employed."

"Pfft," Molly mocked and pushed away from him. "I did your taxes last year, remember? And, in the interest of full disclosure, you should know that I made more than you. A lot more."

"Sherlock smiled broadly. "Oh, John's going to be so jealous. I got you _and_ the money thing."

"The what?"

He waved her off. "Later. More kissing…"

* * *

 _Thanks for reading. Love a review! ~Lil~_


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